Looking For Chelley
by FuryOfTheBlackbird
Summary: It was eight years after those known as 'The Sleepers' awoke to a world recovering from the devastation caused by the Combine long ago. Among them, was a girl called Lin, quiet and determined. She lives alone with her mother, longing for the days she had a proper family. But then an old file resurfaces, and she has a chance to turn it all around.
1. Chapter 1

**Looking For Chelley**

**Chapter 1**

_The Old File_

The heat hung in the classroom like a thick, sluggish fog. My pencil was threatening to slip out from between my fingers as I wrote. I could hear the scratching of pencils and tapping of pens all around me as my fellow classmates feverishly pecked away at the remaining test questions. It was the last exam of not only the year but our entire lives, and quite frankly we were all perfectly ready to be rid of the place.

"Time's up, hand in your papers." I set down my pencil and trudged with my hot and grumpy classmates to the front of the classroom. "Good luck." My history teacher chimed as we stacked our papers into a lopsided pile. I was just leaving, so close to being free of school forever, when the teacher called me back into the classroom.

"I have something to show you." She momentarily turned her back on me, and sifted through the drawer of her filing cabinet until she pulled out a rather thick folder and handed it to me. I held the folder in my hand for a second wondering if she had given me my own file as a joke, or perhaps to prove a point. I definitely wouldn't have put it past her.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Go on, open it " I had no idea what could possibly make a history teacher of all people so excited, but she had the air of a person trying to suppress a fair amount of excitement. I flipped over the cover and had to repress my reflex to gasp out of shock.

A picture of my cousin stared up at me from the photo clipped to a yellowed piece of paper. It was Michelle or Chell as she liked to be called, exactly as I remembered her. That was her alright, with her strong cheekbones, dark eyes, black hair, and a withering look that reminded me how much she hated having her photo taken. My auntie and uncle owned a large company, never really had the time to take care of Chell. So they left her in the care of my father, when we were both too young to understand a thing. After that, they disappeared from our lives entirely. They never even came to visit their own daughter. We spent most of our lives together, and for as long as I could remember she had been there. Then fate took them away, both my father and Chell. And I never knew why.

There was another picture in the file, a newspaper clipping, the only photo I'd ever seen her smile in. The two of us stood side by side supporting the ten pound potato that won her first place at the science fair. My dad was there, crouched beside us holding the trophy, smiling. Under it was the caption _"David Summerfield (Engineer and Technician at Aperture Science) and his two daughters Helen (10 years old) and Michelle (12 years old)." _

"How did you find this?" I managed to speak finally.

"The staff and I were clearing the school's basement." My teacher said. "We stumbled upon a box of records from what must be hundreds of years ago. The rest were sent to the museum for study, but I thought you might want this"

"This means more to me than you could ever know"

"I figured as much." There was a short awkward pause. I spent so many years thinking she hated me, but everything I knew about her was wrong. We teetered for a moment, on the verge of never seeing each other again. Neither of us were quite sure what to say. I tried saying something meaningful but no words came out of my mouth.

"Well, you've got life to get along with, I'm sure." Her words spoke for me. "Be careful out there Lin, and good luck." For the first time ever she'd called me by my proper name. Lin short for Helen.

"Bye Ms. Higgins." I closed the door behind me with a creak and a click. I bolted through the hallway, the file still clutched in my arms. I knew where I needed to be.

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><p>Hello! It's Niki again. You may have noticed this chapter has changed a bit. I actually decided to rewrite this series completely. I felt the previous version was very rough around the edges, overly confusing, and didn't express what I was trying to achieve with it very well. I would like to know what you think of the new version. I know it's a slight bit dull for the first couple chapters, but it was necessary to set the premise of the story.<p>

Just a note: Chapter 3 has not been updated yet. I am working on it though so keep your eyes out!

**Update: I now have a blog! I will be posting progress updates and extra bits such as poems and songs at storiesofablackbird . wordpress . com (had to put a space betweeen the dots because it seems I'm not able to post urls)  
><strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi it's Niki! The revised version of Chapter 2 is here!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

_The Aperture Event_

The bus was a humid cramped mess of sweaty people. There was a tangle of arms stretching every which way attempting to cling to whatever stable part of the bus they could find. All the while I anxiously wondered whether or not buses should make such loud clanking and creaking sounds.

When the bus pulled up to the library I was the only person who attempted to shove my way towards the exit. I mumbled my thanks to the bus driver, and stumbled into the blinding sunlight. Gordon's public library was yet another dingy old relic from the Blank Age meant to remind us of the horrors of whatever came before the Blank Age, and something else I couldn't remember because I never paid attention in history class.

A pigeon sat on the shoulder of Gordon Freeman's tarnished, bronze statue, which stared dejectedly at the town hall across the street. The pigeon gave a soft coo then flapped its little wings until the breeze gave it flight, leaving the bronze hero all alone on his pedestal. What an unfitting end to a hero, I thought, to be remembered only as a perch for birds. I ran a finger over the plaque, feeling each bump and crevasse as they formed words that nearly became invisible under many years worth of grime and lazy care-taking. I wondered briefly to myself what my life would mean to the world in a few hundred years, if a hero's fate was such. I turned away from the statue, because I knew the answer to my thoughts. It would mean little. I knew because that was my reality, I'd lived all those years, at least if you count being unconscious in stasis for a few hundred years as living, and no one gave a damn. There was no place here for us, the ones called the Sleepers, and the townsfolk made sure we knew of that.

The Library's oak door creaked open with the pull of a brass handle, and the smell of dusty books immediately hit me in the face. A few ceiling fans swung around lazily, doing nothing to disperse the heat. A few feeble rays of sunlight shone through the dusty windows, illuminating particles of dust that swirled in an invisible draft. Mark, the librarian's assistant, was asleep at his desk. His soft breaths scattered particles of dust which settled on the desk only to be blown away again. I took a breath and a large amount of dust shot up my nose. I sneezed, and Mark gave a startled cry. He removed his face from the desk as if he'd been burned, knocking over the lamp in the process.

"Nice to see not much has changed." I said with a smile.

"Wow, I really wasn't expecting you here." He propped the lamp upright again and returned a grin. "What's up?"

"I've actually got some research to do." I gestured at something invisible for no reason at all.

"Research?" He leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "You never did research even at school!"

"So? This is important!"

"So was school." He pointed out.

"Touché."

"So, this is it huh?" Mark said after a pause. "Wonder when it's going to feel like real life..." He reclined in his chair, and put his feet up on the desk. It was a habit that drove our teachers nuts for years. He must have once thought it made him look cool, then eventually it became a habit. I'd come to ignore it.

"I'm thinking fairly soon." I said, already imagining the daunting task of finding a job.

"Got any plans?" The suddenness of his question caught me of guard. It was an innocent question of course, but innocent questions tended to have the most complicated answers.

"Not really." I shrugged. In truth, I had never really thought about it. Why plan for a future with nothing in it?

"None at all?"

"No, Mark." I said abruptly. "I might get my hopes up." For a moment he seemed stunned by my sharp response. I hated being so short with him, but talking about the future was just something I didn't want to do. "I should probably get to my research." I mumbled, and without making eye contact, I turned my back on him.

"I'll be here if you need me." I wished he would stop sounding like that, like he was concerned. I didn't need him to make me feel any worse than I already did for talking to him like that.

I settled myself at a banged up oak table with the album of scanned newspapers, flipping through windows to the past. Two long hours, I sat there, my hopes dwindling with each turn of the page. Then I found it, the article I knew would change everything, tucked away at the was titled "_Disaster at Aperture Labs_" in tiny lettering. It had been a lock-down gone wrong. Nobody on the outside knew what happened or why it was triggered, only that nobody escaped, and nobody had left the building afterwards. They had been trapped, both scientists and their daughters. My father and Chell amongst them. I scanned the list of missing persons. My name was amongst them, right below Chell's, and I knew instantly that something was not right. I had been home with my mother, safe and sound. But that was where my memories ended. If I only could just remember what happened, to the world, to my family. The sunlight shining through the window had already begun to turn golden, and I realized how long I'd just sat there looking at my name in print. I sighed and shut the book. I'd found myself nothing but more questions. I was going to need some help, and I knew exactly who I was going to call.


	3. Chapter 3

**IT'S DONE, IT'S REVISED, IT'S THE ALL NEW, ALL IMPROVED CHAPTER 3. And you all thought I'd given up on this story!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_The Search and the Dream_

A young girl with darkish skin, dark grey eyes and dark brown hair ran through the rooms of the small house, holding a slimy potato about the size of a football away from a slightly younger girl who looked vaguely similar. The younger one grabbed at the potato. She laughed and shrieked with delight. The older girl stuck out her tongue at the other.

"You can't catch me!" She shouted, and blew a raspberry.

"Calm down before you two break something!" The mother called from the kitchen, too busy cooking to be bothered. Tired, the younger one plopped herself down on the sofa. The older one gave a look of triumph and she herself flopped on to the sofa. "He's late." The mother muttered, craning her neck in order to see out the window. The front door opened and a tall man wearing a pristine lab coat with the logo of Aperture Science on it walked in. "Hello, honey." He said, planting a quick kiss on his wife's cheek. "Sorry, I'm late. It was busy this morning at the lab." The two children scampered into the kitchen, and the father scooped them up into a tight hug. "There's my girls."

"Daddy!" The younger one yelled happily. "Can I come to? I want to see all the cool robots!"

"I'm sorry Lin, I can only bring Chell."

"No fair!" Lin cried. She tugged on her father's lab coat. "You said it was 'Bring Your Daughter to Work Day'. _I'm_ your daughter! _I_ should be going too." Her father bent down and ruffled her hair.

"How about next time?" He suggested. Lin stomped her foot.

"You always say that, and it never happens!" Selfish, childish tears streamed onto her cheeks.

"That's just the way it works Helen." Her father sighed, and turned to the older child.

"Chell, are you ready to go?" He asked. She nodded her head slowly. Her father took her by the hand and gently guided her towards the door.

"Bye honey, bye Lin." He called.

"Bye Lin." The older one whispered, never taking her eyes off Lin until a door separated them. The younger girl cried more, and by now even she had forgotten why.

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><p>I woke up suddenly and found tears leaking from my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my hand. I sighed and left my hand on my face. The feeling of it resting on my cheek was very real. It had only been a dream. I rolled over. The clock read eight-thirty. I let out a groan and kicked away my bed sheets. There would be no point in trying to sleep again.<p>

I flicked on the bathroom light, which flickered before filling the tiled room with a dull glow. I looked into the foggy mirror, watching the tired girl in the mirror rub her green eyes. She looked down, just like the me outside the mirror, at the black tattoo of Aperture Science, which was dark in comparison to her pale skin. My mother had one too, on her right shoulder just like me, as did the other Sleepers. It was as if Aperture wouldn't let the world forget they existed. There was a sticky note on the mirror that read: "Leave scraps out for Ratt." I ripped it of off the mirror and crumpled it into a ball before tossing it in the garbage.

The living room was depressingly devoid of life, except for the spider sleeping on the ceiling, and a half dead potted plant by the window. The phone rang, and I almost ignored it before considering the possibility it was Gladys, the one person I could trust to help me.

"Oh my god." Gladys spoke promptly, leaving me no time to even say 'hello'. "Lin turn on your radio now."

"Gladys what the hell?" My reply was groggy and confused.

"Go to 1078 AM. Hurry, before it's over!"

"Okay, okay…" I switched on the radio and fiddled with the knob until the newscaster's voice was as clear as the tinny speakers would allow.

_"Several teens have been declared missing after a camping trip gone wrong. Eighteen year old Amanda Langford, Dennis Marron, and Jessica Rottham allegedly got separated from their group while hiking near the Sandy Falls Campsite fifty miles from Gordon." _The receiver nearly slipped out of my hand at the sound of their names. I'd gone to school with each of them. In fact I saw them only a couple days ago during exams.

_"If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of these teens, please contact the Gordon Police Department immediately."_ I clicked off the radio, leaving only silence and the sound of Gladys' crackled breathing.

"Good old Amy, huh?" Gladys said finally. "I can't imagine you're going to miss her that much." Would I? No, I couldn't honestly say so. Since graduating, I just wanted to forget her and all the bad memories she came along with. But now they were all coming back, and I couldn't stop them.

"After what she's done? I shouldn't." I sighed heavily. "But I'm alive still. Can we say the same for her?" Gladys sighed as well.

"I guess not." She replied, and after some time she spoke again. "I'll pick you up in fifteen, Okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye."

"Bye…" Once Gladys was gone the living room seemed lonely and empty again. I couldn't help but compare it to the bright light filled room where the children in my dreams played. How different it was, then. A mother there to take care of me, a big sister figure there to make fun of me and support me, and a dad to come home and hug us and scold us. My mother worked multiple jobs now, and everyday she came home too exhausted to pay attention to anything. "I want to go back…" I whispered to the silence all around me. "I want to go back so much…"

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><p>I left the kitchen scraps for Ratt by the compound gate, where I first found him. He was a scrappy little thing back then, skinny and malnourished, so I fed him. After that he kept coming back, like I knew he would today. A soft mew, announced his presence, and I bent down to scratch his head. I nudged the dish towards him and watched as he daintily devoured his food. A diesel engine roared. He stiffened, hair raised, and bounded away with a nasty hiss.<p>

"Sorry, I think I pissed off your cat." Gladys called from her truck. She leaned out the window letting her curtain like brown hair drape over the side of the truck. As far as I knew, she hadn't cut her hair since eighth grade. "What is this about, for real?" Gladys wasted no time getting to the point as soon as I set foot in her truck. I took a deep breath.

"I think my family is still alive somehow." I said. Gladys didn't say anything for a moment. Her grey eyes gave no clues to what she could be thinking.

"That's impossible Lin." She replied.

"They were locked in Gladys, all of them, in a facility where that kind of technology was available. They could still be alive!"

"I understand. I don't think that kind of chance is worth it, but I understand." She responded in an indecipherable voice. We made the rest of the trip in silence.

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><p>In the early years of our friendship, I used to idolize Gladys. She was everything I wished I could be at the time, a normal girl, from an influential family, confident, and pretty. Her future was secure, and as for mine, it was uncertain. I wanted to be her, have her life, and a future I could look forward to. I even tried my hardest to look like her, but in the end, I only looked and felt like a fool. I'm not sure exactly why she chose to stick with me, even today, as we walked past Gordon Freeman's sun bathed statue.<p>

"Father?" Gladys' stone grey eyes were fixed on the man with such slight fear that only I would be able to notice. She was frozen there on the spot, probably praying he wouldn't see us. I'd never gotten the full story, not even in our eight years of friendship. I knew they didn't get along, not in the slightest. Her father was a businessman in charge of his own construction firm, and dealings with the library were few and far between, mostly in the form of building inspections. "What is he doing here?" She whispered, although it seemed mostly to herself. "He doesn't do business with the library." Her father disappeared through the door and we both stopped holding our breath. "Let's go." She said, this time to me in particular.

"This is utterly hopeless." Gladys said, tossing probably our ninth book into the pile of uselessness. The hours were ticking by mercilessly slow in the library, with nothing to tide us over except for a couple false leads. Aperture was big, that I remembered. So why was it so utterly impossible to find?

"Why don't we, you know, use the internet or something?" I sighed, resting my head in my arms. "This is going to take forever."

"The internet can be tracked." Gladys replied, while flipping through pages of yet another book. "Books, however, cannot. Unless we were being watched or something…"

"That doesn't matter, we're not doing anything wrong." Gladys stopped flipping the pages, and glanced around before leaning close. She looked me dead in the eye.

"I've heard some rumors." Gladys lowered her voice. "There's some people trying to bring back Black Mesa, resurrect their technology and everything."

"No way… Black Mesa? That place is practically a rumor itself! Do you think they found it?"

"I don't know, but that's not my point. If someone's bringing back Black Mesa, then looking for Aperture could get dangerous." Someone tapped me on the shoulder, causing a tingling sensation down my spine. I whipped around in my chair, and was relieved that it was only Mark. There was a book in his hand, and a large one at that.

"Oh, uh… hi." I stammered. He looked anxiously around us.

"This might help." Mark spoke in a low voice, and glanced over his shoulder before setting it on the table.

"Are you okay?" Gladys asked him.

"Huh? Yeah, of course I am." Mark wrung his hands nervously. A bad liar as always. "Oh, be sure to check the index first." And he was gone as quickly as he'd shown up. Gladys and I sat silently, staring at the place where he stood only a moment ago.

"That was…weird." Gladys said finally. She picked up the book he left on the table, and wiped the dust off with her hand. "_A History of Salt Mines in Upper Michigan_? What does this have to do with…anything?" She flipped to the index and a note fluttered out. The paper was considerably newer than the book. Gladys carefully unfolded it. "Looks like Mark's handwriting… why would he…" Her sentence trailed off, as she tried to decipher his handwriting. "You should read this." She said abruptly, handing me the note.

_You are being watched. There is something going on here, but I can't discuss it right now. Meet me at the café down the block at 12:00. Don't bring anyone with you, especially not her._

_Mark_

"Don't go Lin." Gladys said, stony-faced. "I mean it."

"Gladys, it's just Mark."

"Lin, my father is watching you. Something dangerous is at work here."

"He might know something we don't. It's worth a chance." I insisted.

"I'm coming with you then." She replied stubbornly.

"No, you read the note. I can't bring anyone." I said, stepping lightly around the fact that the note specifically mentioned her.

"You have no idea what my father is capable of Lin. I'm coming with you."

"Fine, just keep out of sight."

"I will." She said, with a defiant glare. This was abnormal behavior, especially for Gladys. Yes, she was firm, and sometimes stone-headedly stubborn, yet I'd never seen her react to anything so strongly.

"Alright then." I said. "What about the book? I don't think he gave it to us without a reason." Gladys flipped through the book

"I can't believe it Lin, it's actually there." She said.

"What is?"

"Aperture. It used to be an abandoned salt mine, but in the 1950's a salesman by the name of Cave Johnson purchased it and turned it into a research facility." Gladys read out loud.

"No way…"

"Lin, it's 50 miles from here, near the campground where those kids went missing."

"So… this could actually work!"

"You're crazy Lin, this will never work. So we know where it is now, but what makes you think they're still alive? I know they have technology that we don't, but the chance is just too small."

"I understand what you're suggesting, and there's no way I'm turning back. Not when we're so close."

"You're not giving up, are you?"

"You should have known that the moment you met me."

"I probably should have." She sighed.


End file.
